Lost
by Spyrkle10
Summary: A Pokemon fan reflects on her fate in the real world in the hospital as she dies from a disease that leaves her trapped inside her mind. A (hopefully) sad oneshot reflecting on the importance of the colorful world to a devoted fan, as the images she sees in death may simply be illusions created in her last moments. Rated T for death and cursing.


**Hi. I love Pokemon, had a plot bunny ambush, and practiced being sad. This was the result.**

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Lost

Pokemon was the only safe thing to think about now. How much I wanted to fly like the elegant yet cute Latias, to be the best. To play with Mew. To regain the Pokemon Black cartridge I lost so long ago. But it was over now. My family was a mash of warm feelings and playful banter; I loved them so much. Even when Sheba died- dead, gone, lost, will she be lost like me?- no, no, can't think those thoughts. I'm a Zorua, playing in a meadow with my mother. Blood splatter's across my cheek as a Golem screeches. Lost, forever lost, gone, gone, spiraling down- I'm an angel, fighting alongside Pit and Palutena. My body relaxes.

I wish I could open my eyes. I miss the sky. Darkness is my sandbox, but I will always miss the sky. My body is too weak to look at it. To be wheeled over to a window, to let my eyelids flutter to reveal clouds and blue. Sunlight too. A wind could kill me here- nothing, pathetic, self-pitying foolish- I'm beside Ash, fighting against Team Rocket. His laughter comes as they fly away, Pikachu by his side. My life has been this way since- well, since the hyperdisease. I was saved at the last second. Dependent, greedy, puny meaningless little- Shaymin took flight in a blur of petals.

I feel no pain. Any negative thoughts stress me out far too much. I never see anyone. I'm never lonely, since I have me. I have Moriko. I have my Pokemon team. My Dream Ability Espeon. My nostalgic Arcanine and Golduck. So many others. Data, worthless, unfeeling- My team rejoices as I'm hailed the winner of a shiny Gym Badge. Death. I know it will be soon. My body will never recover. Sometimes I hear a loud bleep from a machine. A machine that I can't see. I've named the ranting me Yami. Like the alternate in Naruto. Anime fangirl, sniveling piece of ordinary- Lugia sings a peaceful melody to a blue-haired girl. Me. I occasionally think of my parents. They fought a lot, but they loved me. I had a hamster named Jake and a fish named Bluestar. Nikki and Spyder, the dogs. Tina the tortoise. Dead because of you, you were a pointless- Meloetta dances across the azure lake, singing a breath-taking song.

I miss Pokemon. Theories were so interesting. The Coma Theory was depressing, but at least it was interesting. My own imagination always forgets about the stories that succeed. Focusing on something hurts. At least, I know Yami hurts. If the Pokemon World truly exists, he (or is it she?) will carry around a mask of my hardened skin. It would be gruesome and yet- ugly ugly hag, no one wants you- Cherrim smile and unfurl their petals as a Sunny Day warms them. My thoughts are so scattered. I'm surprised my fake little journal for myself hasn't collapsed. No one will ever read this. I might as well make a formal introduction. I'm Grace. My last name doesn't matter anymore. Who cares about my great-something grandfather that almost signed the Constitution? Strawberries. Juicy, yummy. Juice splatters down my chin. I laugh along with my unknown, anonymous friend. I like strawberries, fanfiction, video games, and anime.

I think I'm slipping. I was doing a calming exercise, reciting the names of the Legendaries, and I almost forgot Deoxys. Even if his concept is strange, I can't start forgetting- impudent, dumb ungrateful- Rayquaza twirls through the sky, the cosmos shining like a beacon. It's also getting hard to recall what food tastes like. I can't understand why Dawn would toss aside that cookie. Or was it May? Both are Coordinators. If I had a choice, I'd go out on a journey with Chikorita to be the best Coordinator. I don't care if it's stupid. I just know that it's my wish. Maybe my body will still be around when Jirachi comes back, though I'd bet my shiny Stoutland that not even Arceus could help me now. No Brock or Nurse Joy, no Lugia, not even Celebi or Mew- you did this to you, your fault, your- My hand brushes against Zorua as he jumps out of his hiding place. I wonder if I can practice swearing to Arceus.

The background of my mind becomes a bustling Pokemon Center. I'm the blue-haired girl reading a book before- My mind is darkness again. Sometimes, my thoughts get interrupted by dreams. They seem so much more substantial then anything I can conjure up. Yami is getting worse these days, plunging deeper- STOP IT STOP IT DUMB- Keldeo races through the rock labyrinth, trying to beat Virizion in their race. I don't know if I can call the passage of time 'days'. For all I know, mere seconds have passed. I ask why I had to be the only child who received the disease. Just because I was in the lake in- stop… stop… stop- Meowth giggles as Ichase him, wanting my necklace back. It hurt. For a moment, it hurt. Either I'm dying or I'm recovering. No wonder Yami has been acting so strange. He/she was probably born from my body's need to send a warning.

This diary, journal thing of mine is starting to make things worse, though. Maybe Heaven will be filled with Pokemon. Maybe I was good. But I know I'm selfish, and Yami's cries grow weak. If I was kind, truly kind, I would constantly worry about my parents instead of focusing on my Pokemon dream. I'm going to end up in the equivalent of the Fields of Asphodel in Greek myth. Gotta focus on happy things; maybe the outside world will get to see me smile one last time. Just one more time. My own terms for saying goodbye. My little sister, (divorced) parents, my grandmother and grandfather… even my crazy own aunt will never forget me. I'm not going to die as nothing. Sorry, Yami, but you won't be going with me. Maybe you weren't real all along. This is the end of the novels and poems I wanted to write. The end of the Youtube videos I was sure I'd sneakily make. No more replaying the events of my life as I waited for it all to end. It's over now. The End; and Grace never lived Happily Ever After.

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**Patient in Room 205 died from hyperdisease 513-W. Patient was first and only receiver of 513-W. Patient's body was blown apart after remaining in medically induced coma for unregistered period of time and perishing. Body was destroyed according to latest medical procedures stating that recipients of hyperdiseases must have all potentially infected material pertaining to them destroyed. Patient died at 12:13 AM. **

**Birthdate: Oct. 11****th**

**Age: 13**

**Date of Death: Oct. 11****th**

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_I just wish… I could have tried to achieve my dream… _I was pretty sure I was in front of a light. For a moment, I heard the sound my heart machine was making; the bleep of a straight line. Was I dead now? Released from the darkness? Tears formed in the corner of my eyes, but I forced the small sniffles to stop. I shouldn't be so happy. I was never so happy when I was alive. I always hid the pain. It was just harder now. I was still in darkness though. Maybe I was being judged. Them I heard a giggle, and a blond child stepped out of the shadows. Her black eyes were shining with curiosity, her long hair reaching her shoulders. I could've sworn that I swallowed some strawberry flavored bile; I was dead at the age of twelve and she was laughing?

"Ya think you're dead, don't you?" the child's voice was musical and soft. "Yeah." The girl almost skipped around, presumably because my voice sounded so damn happy. I knew I was, but it wasn't right to be so happy. It wasn't right to have lived with only Yami so long. The girl spoke again. "My name's Jirachi," I stared in disbelief, "and I heard your wish. Guess what, though?" I didn't say anything; it could be a joke, like so many things were, it could be that Jirachi liked to watch me suffer. Maybe the Pokemon World wasn't so nice after all. "I can't help you. I just wanted to talk." I'm pretty sure that my mind was imitating Yami as my body sobbed. Then I was gone; for real this time. I knew it couldn't be. My saviors never wanted to save me. No one ever cared, no one saw because I couldn't show them. Not as if they'd like me anyway. There was a light, like the light of the ever-missed sun, and there was pain as I screamed. Maybe they realized that garbage like me needed recycling? Maybe Jirachi felt sorry for me? Either way, I was small as my memories died away, and I was reborn. The baby taking my place in my old family would probably die, but at least they would play with Jirachi and Mew and Zorua. How I loved Zorua. So my memories were lost, but I would rest. Finally. My semi-happy ending.

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**Thanks for reading!**


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